Chapter 6 Stories, Duels, and Nicknames

"Well, I told you my story, so now it is time for you to tell me yours."

"Well, it's not nearly as long or exciting as yours," warned Peter.

"A story is a story no matter how long or boring it may be," sighed Trumpkin.

Glancing at one another, the children wondered who would be the first to speak up. Finally, after a few moments of awkward silence, Peter did.

"Well, our story is short and boring, depending on where you'd like us to start."

"Meaning?" asked Trumpkin.

"Well, I'll give it a go, and if need be I'll tell you the long version."

"Peter, show him your sword. That might help," suggested Edmund, a smirk crossing his face. Draco and Pansy's face looked quite the same.

For a moment Peter just looked at Edmund, but deciding it might indeed help, he unsheathed his sword and held it with both hands.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked Trumpkin.

"Of course I do. It's a sword. What else would it be?" the dwarf said, irritatedly.

"It's not just any sword," spoke up Edmund. "Look at the blade closely."

"Humph," was his reply, but the dwarf looked all the same, though if he knew what the sword was he didn't let on.

"This is the sword from the Golden Days of Narnia," Peter clarified. "In fact, all the weapons and fine things we have right now are from those days. In those days, we were kings, queens, and knights."

"So you're saying that you all are hundreds of years old, yet you look no older then children? Likely! I want truth, not fiction!"

"You want proof? Would you, humble dwarf, like to challenge mere children to a duel?"

Trumpkin looked shocked. Trying to find a loop whole or way for the children to cheat, he hesitated, and then finding none, he nodded his head. "What do I have to lose?"

"Here's a sword," Draco said, grabbing Edmund's and giving it to Trumpkin.

"Here, Ed," and Peter handing his sword to his little brother.

"What's this for?"

Whispering into Edmund's ear, Peter said, "It might be a better match if you fight. If you lose it won't hurt as bad and when he does, he might not want any more proof."

Shrugging, Edmund took the sword and the two started circling. Edmund hadn't touched a sword in a year, but already he was feeling more like a king and less like a child. His brain started working with strategies and attacks that he could do.

Then, as quick as lightening, Trumpkin made the first move, Edmund meeting his blade. Trumpkin made the first attacks, and Edmund blocked each attempt, although it was much harder then dueling a human. He had to aim very low in order to hit the dwarf and not flat out miss him. It was rather awkward.

"Oh come on!" Lucy shouted, waiting for her brother to show the little dwarf who they really were.

Susan looked quite pale; her thoughts back to the time Edmund had nearly been killed by the White Witch while doing pretty much the same thing.

Hermione looked a lot like Susan, only she just wanted it to be over, but thankful it was Edmund this time, and not Harry or Ron.

Harry and Ron were yelling out encouraging words and directions, none of which Edmund took. Draco, Pansy, and Peter were doing the same.

The dwarf did this and the dwarf did that, but Edmund only blocked. Considering the height difference, Edmund had to make very different calculations and tactics. The sword still felt a bit foreign to him, but when at last Edmund saw his chance, everything changed.

His sword flew in the air swiftly and masterly directed. His attacks never fell short or too high. His feet moved with speed and skill. However, now that his sword felt like second nature, he was having fun. There would be no point in stopping this duel now. Why not let the dwarf feel like he was making progress?

So with a smile at his friends, he gave Trumpkin an opportunity and the dwarf took it. Edmund blocked, then attacked a little, gave Trumpkin another opportunity, and blocked some more.

His opponent was getting better, and had not been by any means, bad with a sword. In fact, he was probably one of the best dwarfs with the sword any of the children had ever encountered. Edmund jumped, ducked, sidestepped, hopped backwards, and advanced, Trumpkin doing much the same thing.

Edmund saw that Trumpkin was sweating and his breathing was fast and labored. Feeling slightly let down, Edmund quickly finished the fight. Trumpkin's sword flew out of his hand and, to the surprise of everyone, including himself, Edmund caught it.

"You're…you're…you can't be," muttered the beaten dwarf.

"I can tell you're very good with a sword, and I doubt many people have ever beaten you before, but really, you just got outmatched by me. And I'm not even fifteen yet."

"If you want, you and Susan here can do an archery match," suggested Peter, his grin still on his face.

"That's so mean," Hermione puffed. "The poor little dwarf."

"What! Who said that! Who?" Trumpkin twirled around to face Hermione.

"I wouldn't get too offended quite yet," Draco said. "There's got to be a better time for that. Besides, she's just Granger."

"Yeah, and you're just Malfoy," Ron retorted without even thinking.

"Come on. We're in Narnia," Harry pleaded. "Remember, the place where we all actually for the most part, get along?"

"True," Pansy said. She rather liked Hermione, as long, of course, as they weren't back at Hogwarts.

"There, see that red apple on the left, the one right next to the dead tree?" Susan asked.

"That one?" Trumpkin asked, pointing too far down for it to be the correct apple.

"No, that one," Susan said, raising his arm higher. "Oh, that one."

"Too far?" Draco teased.

"Not if she can hit it, it's not."

"Heads or tails?" Peter asked.

"What?"

"Heads or tails?" and Peter took out a coin from his pocket.

The dwarf was very interested in the coin, having never seen one before. He picked heads, since he liked the front of the coin better. And as luck would have it, he won.

Trumpkin readied his bow, pulled the string with a master's touch, and with a twang, it went flying straight through the apple.

"Nice one," Harry said, but he had seen Susan with the bow too many times to doubt her.

Susan pulled out an arrow, stringed it, pulled it back and let it go. It soared into the air and hit the apple's stem, making it fall and hit the ground.

Trumpkin's face went pale. His eyes became wide and he slowly walked a bit away from them.

"The stories were true?"

"Of course they're true," Lucy said, as if Trumpkin had just said that grass is green or the sun is yellow.

"I guess that horn was magic after all. Best go and tell King Caspian that no help has arrived though."

"No help?" yelled Edmund. "What do you think we are? Chop liver?"

"If we can out beat you in both the sword and the bow, how can we not be of help?" Ron demanded.

"You're only children!" Trumpkin tried to reason.

"Children that could have let you drown, run you through with a sword, and behead you with an arrow," Pansy muttered to herself.

"We ended up back in England by accident. We had been grown in Narnia, and once back, we became kids again." Peter said. "A year passed and we thought we'd never go back to Narnia. But, right before our train would have arrived to take us all to school, magic happened and before any of us knew it, we ended up on this island."

"When we left, we were exploring a cave," Ron continued. "Somehow, that cave led us back to Hogwarts, and a year later, as we were waiting for Potions with Snape…"

"Professor," interrupted Hermione, "Professor Snape."

"Sure, with Professor Snape, magic happened as well and we ended up on the beach on this island. We're here for a reason. Last time it was to defeat that witch."

"And this time," Peter began, "well, this time might be to help you to regain your country back, to become true Narnians once again."

With a sigh, Trumpkin nodded. "Fine, you can come with and I'll take you to King Caspian. Maybe he'll agree with you."

"Well, our DLF has spoken," Lucy giggled.

"Our what?" asked Trumpkin.

"DLF."

"What's that?"

Lucy looked at Pansy and Hermione and said, "Our Dear Little Friend."

"Well, that's not at all demeaning," mumbled Trumpkin, a scowl on his face, but he started walking, and every followed.

"I wonder what King Caspian is like," wondered Susan aloud.

"Probably taller than our DLF," laughed Draco.

Find out what happens next as our story continues on Chapter 7 (Title Not Yet Decided.)

Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR